My Little Hawk
by Resonae
Summary: Loki has always wanted a pet. And he was quite satisfied with his perfect, beautiful little hawk. One-shot. Slash, Loki/Clint, and mentions of things having taken place, though nothing graphic.


A/N: I don't own either Loki or Clint. It's a slash, so you've been warned, and there ARE mentions of sex having taken place, but nothing is graphic.

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My Little Hawk

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Loki has always wanted a pet.

He stands from his place at the top of the room, overlooking the works, and spots his pet. He thinks it's a perfect, perfect choice. A little bird stripped of its freedom. He marvels at the irony of it all. He hasn't leashed his little pet, but because he's clipped its feathers it can't fly away, and it's doomed to stay with him forever.

Loki jumps down gracefully and calls his little bird to him. His bird obeys instantly.

His bird is, actually, little. Loki is tall, of course, being an Asgardian and therefore superior to every Midgardian in every way, but his bird is little, considering his gender and age. Loki doesn't quite care. It's the little imperfection in details that makes him so attached to his bird, after all. His bird tilts his head to one side as birds do when they're considering something, and Loki finds it quite endearing. "Agent Barton, let us retire." He doesn't offer an explanation, but his bird needs none. He merely follows obediently as Loki turns, half a step behind him in respect.

Loki lies down in his large bed and sighs in content. "Come here, my little bird." His bird obeys. "Take your clothes off, my little hawk. Don't you know it's manners to take filthy clothes off in bed?" His bird obeys again, stripping himself of his combat boots, pants, jacket and shirt before sitting on his bed.

Loki takes the moment to admire his little bird. His body is scarred, because of course, he was a spy and an assassin. "How your previous masters mistreated you, my little bird." Loki coos, pitying. And it really is quite a pity that his precious bird should have been so scarred, marring sun-kissed flesh in ways he doesn't like. "Do you enjoy it, my pet? Having a new master that cares only for your well being."

The answer comes immediately. "Yes, sir."

The answer curls a smile into Loki's lips. "Of course, you are, my little bird. Of course. Look at all these ugly scars you carry. They let you fly, and you fly into all these obstacles, all these hazards and dangers, and look how you've suffered." He pulls his pet down onto the bed below him, and his bird doesn't fight him. "I've clipped your wings, yes, but look how safe you are, my little bird. My precious little thing." He says softly. "Do you wish to fly, my pet?"

"No, sir."

"Master. I am your master, little bird. I wish to hear it from your lips. Who am I?"

His hawk doesn't hesitate. "My master."

Loki smiles again, moving his hands lower to free his hawk of the last of his garments. "Good, such a good pet. And your master will _always_ reward obedient pets."

The next morning, Loki wakes and finds his hawk, still sound asleep next to him in his bed. His superhuman senses can still smell the scents lingering on his hawk, the smell of sweat and sexual excretion and blood. There are stains of it on the white sheets, but Loki cares not for them. It excites him to have been the one to relieve his hawk of his innocence, and it surprises him that his hawk has never had a sexual encounter.

His hawk will not wake until much later, he is sure, because Loki has kept his little bird up until the first rays of the sun has started to poke through the windows. And even when he does wake, Loki doubts his little pet will be doing much walking.

He steps out, fully garmented, and the physicist greets him. "Where's Barton?"

"Resting." Loki smiles. "I'm sure you all heard his voice last night."

The physicist grunts, looking unabashed. "Needed earplugs." The rest of the men, who are, of course, not under his own mind control, look a little embarrassed at the comment. Midgardians. Loki will never understand their shyness with mating, because all of them are products of one. He quite cares not. The others go back to work, and whatever they'd heard overnight is forgotten as they work.

Loki strolls around for a bit and beelines back to his quarters, where his hawk is still deep in slumber. Loki pulls the thick sheets off of his naked body to examine his pet. His hawk is muscular, like all hawks. He is quite aware that his hawk is a powerful Midgardian, even with his small stature, and the lean muscles do not stop at his arms and torso but down to his powerful, lean legs.

But even so, his hawk is quite slender at the waist, and currently the inwardly curved waist line is dotted with finger-shaped bruises that Loki has left the previous night. Loki chuckles quietly and uses a thumb to brush away the dried blood from the inside of his pet's thighs, and pulls the blanket back over him.

The movement is enough to wake his pet, and brilliant blue-green-gray eyes open. Loki flinches, and grabs his scepter, but his pet blinks and the sky-blue of the mind control is back. He lets his scepter go, and chuckles when his pet tries to get up. "Rest, little bird." He coos, as if he is talking to a child. And by Asgardian standards his hawk _is_ a child, barely an infant of itself. "Your body needs it."

His pet sighs and floats back to sleep, and Loki chuckles. He is going to keep this little pet, and it will stay at his side forever. When Loki can access the Tesseract's powers, he can access Asgard, meaning he can give his little pet Golden Apples. The apples will not make his pet a god, by any means, he knows, but they _will_ expand his life span.

He and his little hawk spend most of their nights engaging with each other. No, Loki corrects himself as he watches over his sleeping hawk, it is _him_ who is doing the engaging. His little hawk is almost laughably helpless during its moments, buried under what Loki knows is mostly pain instead of pleasure, but because he is such an obedient little pet, his hawk only reacts the way Loki wishes him to.

Tonight is one of the nights where he cannot actually resume his usual nightly activities with his precious little hawk, because his hawk is, after all, the best agent with the best physical abilities and they need him to operate. Pity, he thinks, but he has all of eternity to spend with his hawk and a night means nothing.

Especially if he can watch his little pet sleep. In his sleep the hawk looks completely vulnerable, and, to Loki's knowledge, he is. The lines of his age disappear completely and he slumbers on his side, curled up as a human fetus. A pillow nestles not only under his head but between his legs and between his arms, clutched to his stomach and torso. Loki thinks it's quite endearing.

Yes, Loki decides, he has actually found the perfect pet.

The mission on the next day goes _exactly_ the way they'd planned it. Loki even gives away his scepter, even though he could have dematerialized it. They know none of his plans, his powers, which suits him fine. The one thing he does get annoyed at is the run in with his adoptive brother, but he gets quite amused watching his all-powerful brother and the two not-so-human Midgardians brawl.

He smirks when he sees the Hulk, because it will be _so very easy. _He is generally unimpressed by the one-eyed human's threats, and even less impressed by his rather pathetic attempt at humor. He is then even less impressed by the redhead's attempt to fool him, because his little pet has warned him about all of it already. He spills what the redhead wants to hear, but it is all rather amusing because they think they are playing him.

He almost laughs at how gullible they are, how easily their pieces are moved. They have obviously not realized that he is the _god of trickery_, as his brother is the god of thunder. He waits, and then there is a large blast and he knows his dear little pet is here.

It is almost laughable that out of the entire crew of the ship, he is in the one safe place, in his little prison. It doesn't take very long for him to step out of it, of course, and then his brother falls for the same trick _again_, which is almost quite laughable again. He stands there to taunt his brother for just a little more, but he can't help that he is quite giddy to see his little pet once again, and their sexual ministration is going to go on for a _lot _longer than usual tonight.

He runs into a little more trouble that he'd have liked, which ends up in him having to leave without his dear hawk. He is _quite_ annoyed with that, but he knows his hold on his pet won't relent anyway, and he'll be back for his bird.

The next time he does meet his bird in about 24 hours, he's shocked to learn that his _bird is shooting at him._ He is highly annoyed by this, very much so. And it distracts him enough not to remember that his little bird packs explosives in his arrows, and it annoys him even _more_ that the big green beast throws him around.

He does black out after that, and when he wakes he sees his little bird, kneeling next to him, an arrow notched and the string taut. He cannot help but smile at the sheer anger, the sheer pain and hatred in his bird's eyes. He asks for a drink, which the man in the ridiculously colored suit provides him with. They wait, and his little pet is his prison guard as they wait.

He turns to his bird. He is defeated – he is smart enough to know when – but he cannot help himself. "My little bird."He whispers, quiet enough that no other can hear. He smirks softly.

"Shut up." His pet hisses, his tri-colored eyes livid.

"Does your body ache, little hawk?" He coos softly. He is aware his brother is staring at him, and aware that his hearing will allow his brother to hear everything. That is, in the end, what he wishes. "Is it the pain of the battle that wracks your frail body, little bird, or is it the aftermaths of our many nights together?"

He notices the hand that's holding the string and the arrow shake violently, the anger in the eyes turn to sheer fear and pain before he's tackled to the ground by his angry brother. The others are surprised, he can tell, as Thor grabs the neck of his garments and shakes him, spitting angry curses at him. His bird is shaken, shaken badly, and that is all Loki wants to see.

His little bird is still his prison guard aboard the large ship. Loki is placed in the same container he'd been in before – of course they'd made multiple ones – and his bird sits outside of it in a chair, his bow in his lap and his quiver of arrows at his thigh. The redhead has tried to convince his pet of rest, but his pet has refused it. "What is it that you wanted from me?" His bird asks softly, his gaze so neutral that even Loki cannot read the emotions. "To be your pet?"

Loki sees no reason to lie to his precious little pet. "Yes." He says, a little forlornly. "My little hawk."He steps as close to his little pet as he can, and his hawk flinches. There is no more question, which Loki is surprised about. He had expected questions about their nightly activities, but none comes. "My brother." He offers, wanting some emotion from his dear bird. "He will be protective over you, now that he knows the depths of what has happened between us."

"There was nothing between us." His hawk says harshly, gripping his bow in one hand. "It was all your fantasy." There is anger and desperation and mostly fear in his voice.

Loki smiles. "Was it, little pet? Why do you readily push your memories away?" He is smug, because even though he has lost the war, the battles, he realizes he _still_ owns his little bird. "Yes, there was mostly pain, but you cannot completely deny that there was no spark of pleasure."

"Enough." A new voice booms, and Loki sighs. It is one he is _very_ familiar with. He turns to find his older brother, and almost regretfully only his only brother, standing at the entrance. "Go rest." Thor tells his little pet. "You need it. There is no need for you to listen to his poison any longer." His pet obeys quietly, and Loki feels a thrill at the willingness. They do not speak until the hawk's ever-so-light footsteps disappear from the halls. "What were you thinking, Loki?" Thor says, sadly. "What have you done to him?"

Loki turns his back on Thor, something he knows highly annoys him. "Do you remember, brother, that little pet we had, when we were younger?"

Thor glares. "Humans are not pets, brother."

Loki chuckles lowly. "No, Thor. Perhaps not, not all of them. But he's a hawk, brother. My little bird." He turns, his green eyes flashing almost violently. "Do you think you can protect him from me?" Thor meets his gaze evenly, and Loki smiles. "I have marked him, Thor. He is my precious little bird."

Thor sighs. "You will return to Asgard tomorrow morn, Loki. You will no longer be able to touch him. I will _personally_ make sure of it."

Loki only smiles as an answer.

The morning after, Loki is cuffed, and they even gag him. Loki suspects it was Thor's idea so he could not spit more of his "poison" at his hawk. It is quite a pity, because Loki would have liked to see his little pet squirm. He does not struggle as Thor hands him one end of the Tesseract, but his eyes are focused on his little hawk.

His hawk tries to look like he doesn't care, tries to smile as the redhead whispers something in his ear, but Loki can read the fear in his eyes. He smiles, and though it is with just his eyes he is aware his hawk has caught it. He is awarded with a flicker of almost painful terror in the multi-colored eyes of his beautiful hawk before the Tesseract yanks them from Midgard.

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So, I don't know if it turned out well. I sort of imagine a Clint-obsessed Loki and a Clint who hates it 100% of the time, and Loki being somewhat deluded. Review? :3


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